


Runner's High

by jaimeemarina



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 09:19:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18617710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimeemarina/pseuds/jaimeemarina
Summary: Between the slow wind and salty air, Choi Youngjae never knows that someone with tortured gaze like Im Jaebum could still alive. But on a Wednesday, in a bakery, he watches everything begin again.(wounded pasts lead Youngjae and Jaebum to restart their lives in a small coastal town, hoping the waves could soothe their scars, and they discover that sometimes healing comes from the last person they'd expect it to).





	Runner's High

**Author's Note:**

> playlist: runner's high by adoy
> 
> italic paragraphs: flashback

He studies the moonlight from the small bind on the window, and listens to the rustling of cicadas in the air. He can hear his steady breathing in the midst of faint horns and engines in downtown Seoul, an indication that Jaehwan is fast asleep. And he knows that once Jaehwan asleep, he is gone, out like the light until the sun began to peek over the misty Seoul morning.

For once, he is thankful for Jaehwan’s sleep that going to be his saving grace tonight.

He slids out of the bed, tugging the duffle bag from under the bed, heart pounding and he swears that Jaehwan must have sensed it, even in his sleep. But he doesn’t shift, his chest and shoulder still move steadily, so he slowly slipping on his old denim jacket he had for almost half his life, and picks up the bag—everything that he owns, nothing more, nothing less. As he moves to the door, he realizes just how pitiful it is to see his life in one dark brown bag.

He turns back before he moves the door’s shiny metal handle, looks at Jaehwan one last time. They both know it was coming, they have been keep stepping around one another, but he knows that neither of them have been good with confrontation. So for this one time, he decided to be the bad person, sparing Jaehwan from becoming the antagonist of their relationship.

Placing an envelope on the kitchen table, he takes one last glance around the place he’d called home for a year. With a resolute nod of his head, he walks out of the house and out of Jaehwan’s life.

***

Choi Youngjae ties his apron to his back, humming as he counts the coins and bills on his hand before placing them as neat as he can on the counter. At one point, his hum getting louder, and he starts to sing along, slightly bopping his head as he recognize his boss’ music taste improvement.

For once in his life, he is happy.

He lifts his gaze to look at the window, watching the slow but steady lapping of small waves against the shore, and he feels right. Serene. Home. He can’t remember the last time and last place he feels this peaceful, but certainly not Seoul, and not the house he lived in with Jaehwan for about a year. He tried, and Jaehwan had tried too, but it never felt this way. He never felt like home inside the apartment they shared together, not even when he tried to decorate their mostly empty living room with cozy cushions or decorated the windows with some small plants and jars of herbs. It had just felt like he was decorating Jaehwan’s house, and Youngjae was simply occupying it. He always knew that it would only be temporary, and he knew that Jaehwan felt the same way.

His home was (and still is) the three-bedroom house he shared with his parents and an older brother and sister until he was seventeen—the modest home in the Mokpo suburb, full of light and love from the laugh they shared together. Their home was never quieter even until his sister left for a student exchange in Nagoya. It was only quiet after he buried his parents and older siblings on a Wednesday evening, after their rental car crashed in Nagoya’s hill when they were visiting his sister for a weekend. He was the only survivor with almost no scratch on his body but a deep wound on his soul, and he left Nagoya with four dead bodies that he had to buried at the age of seventeen.

He left his home the day after he graduated from high school, left everything but a couple sets of his clothes, and put the house under his aunt’s care—he simply couldn’t stay at the house anymore, not without his parents’ warm laugh and his older siblings annoying rants that he had gotten used to live with for all of his life. He worked three part time jobs to support himself while trying to get some certifications to his name, lived in a shared apartment with four different boys who had no sense of boundaries and pissed him on a daily basis. That’s why he moved into Jaehwan’s place right when he asked so at the early of their relationship.

It’s been eight months since he left Jaehwan’s house in the middle of the night and he knows that he made the right decision. Although he’d been hurt, and the first few calls with Jaehwan after he left were full of words they both regretted, he knew Jaehwan felt the same way. Without a direction, he hit the road that night, took the first bus he could get on the terminal that drove him about 100 miles away to Gangneung, a small coastal city. He was surprised to found a comfort around salty air and slow wind, but he knew that it’s finally a home, a second home after his residence in Mokpo.

He stops singing when he hears heavy footsteps at the front door, and he smiles to see Kim Jihoon walking to the counter looking all pissed. He knows that the retired dentist in front of him only has two default moods—pissed and cranky—and if he looked pissed before it hits eight in the morning, Youngjae has to serve two cinnamon rolls and a cup of espresso so that he would be able to function properly.

“Morning, Jihoon-ssi.”

Jihoon nods as he sits in his usual booth, but suddenly alarmed when he hears the clink sounds of the cup, and hurriedly walks to the counter to. “I’d pass the espresso today, thank you.”

Youngjae smirks. “That’s new.”

Jihoon scowls. “What do you mean ‘new’?”

“I’ve been here for eight months, Jihoon-ssi, I know that I have to serve you a cup of espresso when you come here looking pissed like that.”

“Of course I am pissed—Kang’s little demons are screaming in my backyard at seven o’clock in a summer. Everyone must be pissed if they were in my shoes.”

A chuckle slips out Youngjae’s lips. “Little demons? Really?”

“Well, all kids are,” Jihoon eyes the pastry section then points at a croissant, and Youngjae readily takes one and put it along his two cinnamon rolls. “I want to lay down after this, so no espresso for today,” he concludes.

“Alright,” Youngjae marks Jihoon’s order to his tabs. “Do you want a cup of tea instead?”

“Sure,” Jihoon absent-mindedly nods, and Youngjae prepares the tea. “Did you open the store on your own today? Where is Yeeun?” he asks, looking around.

Just as Jihoon finishes his question, a heavy pregnant lady appears from the kitchen, stepping to join them on the counter slowly, her right hand on her belly. “Good morning, Jihoon-ssi,” she smiles warmly, bowing lightly to her regular who bought his breakfast, lunch, and dinner from her bakery.

“Hi, Yeeun. You look like you’re ready to pops little demons anytime soon. Where’s your husband?”

Shin Yeeun snorts, brushing her short hair to her ears. “Jinyoung is next door. There is a delivery coming to the restaurant this morning,” she replies. Park Jinyoung, her husband, owns a restaurant right next to the bakery and sometimes lend his hand to her. “I heard something about little demons, though.”

“You heard it right—I was ranting about Kang’s little demons,” Jihoon takes a big bite of his cinnamon roll. “You better raise your babies right, I don’t need Park’s little demons too,” Jihoon warns Yeeun, and both of them laugh earnestly, bringing a small smile on Youngjae’s lips as he serves the tea for him.

Youngjae picks up a cactus printed mug and pour one for Yeeun, who graciously accepts it. His legs then step out of the counter to sit in one of the empty booth, and he sighs—not a tired sigh, but a content sigh, the same kind of sigh he’s been letting out since working in this place for the last eight months. He doesn’t exactly know what makes him feel this way—perhaps because of how nice his bosses are to him? Or because of the fact that the waves against the rocky shore that accompany him everyday? Or because he finally realizes that at the age of 27, he finally found his life, down the Gyeongpo beach.

“Anything new to spill, Jihoon-ssi?” Yeeun asks, sipping her tea. It is her same routine: she would ask her customers about anything that is going on in town, and they would vomit out all of the dramatized version of small town gossips that they heard. Youngjae could not care less, but Yeeun said that small town means repeat customers, and she knows that gossips and slanders are the key to gain all of the _ahjummas_ in this town. She usually asks them nicely, nods along while smiling at them genuinely, and all of the _ahjummas_ would get another baked goods to takeaway after they finish sipping their coffee and pouring out their gossips.

But not with Jihoon. He is the type of person who keeps thing to himself, and for that reason, Youngjae has a soft spot for him. Nothing is more annoying than hearing different versions of dramatized small town gossips, so he is grateful that Jihoon always mind his own business. After living in such a close-knit community for a while, Youngjae comes to the realization that the ability of minding one’s own business is the only thing that he miss from living in Seoul. At least Jihoon is guaranteed would never piss him off with this matter.

“The usual,” Jihoon says shortly.

Youngjae is about to stands up when he remembers something. “Anyway, what’s the deal with the guy who lives near the lighthouse?”

Jihoon studies him through his small eyes. “What about him?”

“Nothing, just wondering when will he picks up his package that accidentally got delivered here,” says Youngjae. “It’s been a week already.”

Jihoon gulps. “I’ll take care of it.”

Youngjae raises his thick eyebrows. “That doesn’t sound like you,” his tone suspicious . “Plus the guy seems like he lives in recluse—I’ve been here for eight months and I never talk to him once.”

“I’ve been here for two years and I can count the number of conversation I have with him with my fingers,” Yeeun points out.

“He’s never been to the bakery too.” Youngjae adds.

Yeeun puts her mug and shrug. “Well, some people just don’t like bread, Youngjae.”

Jihoon raises his hands to rub on his face. “That’s Im Jaebum for you guys,” he states calmly.

Youngjae finally shrugs his shoulder, squatting to get a shoe box that was delivered from a clinic in Seoul that has intrigued him for a few days. For someone who rarely gives shit about other people’s business, his interest has been piqued by the packaged. He puts that on Jihoon’s table and trying to refocus his head to actually mind his own business instead than some stranger’s package—a stranger that becoming more and more of a local myth rather than reality to him.

A stranger named Im Jaebum.

With a groan, Jihoon push himself out of the table. “I’ll deliver this to him,” he promises. “Thank you for the tea. I’ll be here for lunch.”

Yeeun bows and waves her hand, sending Jihoon off from her seat. A smile creeps across her face as she heads back to the kitchen. “Thank you, Youngjae. Jinyoung owes me 20,000 won because of you.”

“Why me?”

“I bet that you will be disappointed if you didn’t send that package to Im Jaebum, and he bet that you don’t even care. Judging from the look on your face, it’s obvious that I win the bet.”

For a few seconds, Youngjae blinks confusely. “What?”

“Don’t pretend that you haven’t been very curious of the local myth named Im Jaebum, Youngjae.”

Youngjae cackles. “Why would I be curious about him?” he asks Yeeun, but the latter only smiles and get back to the kitchen, leaving Youngjae wondering why in the world he would be curious some dude named Im Jaebum.

***

“Everything locked up?” Jinyoung steps out of the kitchen’s door, sets of keys on his left palm, and he offers his right palm to gently rub against the soft cotton of the light blue shirt that stretched offer Yeeun’s belly. Youngjae twitch out of nervousness for a second, terrifies that Yeeun would go into labour any second and both of him and Jinyoung have to deliver the baby here, but that twinge changes into something that made him smile, as if he bathes in the warmth of Yeeun and Jinyoung’s loves.

“Leave it to me and go home before she pops her little demon here,” he takes the keys from Jinyoung’s hand, who laughs hearing his little dose of profanity.

“You’re hanging out with Jihoon-ssi too much, Youngjae,” he says. “You’re okay closing this down on your own? I can ask someone from the restaurant if you need some help.”

Youngjae shakes his head firmly. “It’s alright. Just go home already, I don’t want to deliver your baby in case Yeeun goes into labour here.”

“It’s all your fault that my belly is so big and people have been acting as if I’ll pop in any second,” Yeeun nags at Jinyoung then collects her purse before nudging Youngjae’s elbow. “I put something on the fridge for you to bring home. See you tomorrow, Youngjae.”

Jinyoung pats his shoulder. “Stop by the restaurant, I have some leftover too,” he says. “Take care, man.”

Youngjae nods and watches as Jinyoung and Yeeun steps out, hand in hand, both speaking in a hushed tone. He catches the grin they exchange, the grin that meant for them both and not for Youngjae to see and he feels a slight flutter in his stomach. Even with Jaehwan, he never felt that, the obvious link between two people that meant to belong together. He assumes that he isn’t built for something like that, not after his parents died. He believes he isn’t built to raise a family who stays with him for his whole life—but he can’t help but wish that someone will be there waiting for him when he gets home.

He locks the door behind him and stopping by the restaurant to pick up the leftover Jinyoung spares for his dinner, then begins his walk home, The Smiths blasting on his ears. After he washes down his dinner with a can of beer, his mind begins to drift to the conversation he had earlier with Jihoon and Yeeun, one he doesn’t completely understand his curiousity about, and remembers his very first encounter with Im Jaebum.

_He zips his windbreaker, trying to run faster as he can already feels the fat droplet of rains landing on his head and his face. Any sane person would head to the small shelter at the end of the beach, but Youngjae keeps running, running to let his heart pound so hard that he wouldn’t feel the pain anymore, his legs stomping loudly at the wet white sand. He stops to look at the shore, listening to the waves crashing._

_Despite the loud waves, he can sense someone running into him, and he turns back to see someone in a black shorts and a grey t-shirt running towards him. The figure comes closer and he admires his form, the burns in his calves as he moves along the sand, broad shoulder tonned body under the wet t-shirt. He caughts a glimpse of his face, and it hits him that he just encounters with Im Jaebum, the mysterious man who he never see during the six months of his stay in this town._

_Their eyes locked—his sleepy, hooded eyes meet with Jaebum’s guarded eyes and his lips firm into a straight line as he sees Jaebumtakes another turn away from him._

_They pass each other in the rain, a chance encounter on a lonely, angry beach. And Youngjae wonders how could anyone with tortured eyes like Im Jaebum could still alive._

**Author's Note:**

> how was it? do you guys have any idea what is the deal with jaebeom? feel free to discuss the ideas! i'm planning to post this at least once a week while killing the time before got7's comeback!! who's excited for ot7? 
> 
> i mentioned lee jaehwan aka vixx's ken as youngjae's ex. i love their cute friendship so i thought i will include him in the story, but he will only mentioned and won't make any appearance. also shin yeeun!!! i LOVE her chemistry with jinyoung so i figured i want to include her too. hopefully i can do her justice!! 
> 
> anyway the title of this song was inspired by a song with the same title from a korean indie band called adoy. i feel like the song really set out this peaceful-sad mood that this fic will be revolving around. feel free to check the song and the band, they're awesome!


End file.
